Together
by TigerLilly22
Summary: The battle for Vale continues, but not for every huntress.


Darkness was all Yang could feel for the longest time. Everywhere hurt, and when she opened her eyes she immediately regretted it, her head throbbing as she flinched from the light on her left. Sound came after, a thrumming din of hushed and hurried voices, heated footsteps on stone, the distant cries of gunshots and huntsman fighting in the streets.

She was lying down, somewhere hard that made her limbs ache. Or maybe that was from the bruises, she couldn't be sure. The simple smell of antiseptic stung her nose and her mouth tasted like ashes and cotton. When she shifted, she felt a pillow at her head and a weight on her wrist that grew tighter.

The last thing she could remember was running, running toward the city and the White Fang that were invading the city, mowing them down one by one. The fights were a blur. All that had mattered was that they stood in her way and she needed them not to. She was frantic, searching for someone, hoping. Then there was a scream, and she saw -

"Yang?"

A shadow blocked the light. Slowly, she squinted up at someone hanging over her; a familiar, tired face. The lights in the low ceiling shuddered from a distant explosion, but it didn't hide Blake's puffy eyes or the slouch of her frame, leaning at an angle as though she favored her left side. Her hand lightly squeezed Yang's wrist again.

Yang tried to talk, her voice raspy. "You… I saw you."

Beyond Blake she saw cots like the one Yang assumed she was on. A temporary medic bay housed in ruins, but how did she get here? The last person she fought was -

That man.

Her memories came back in a flood of red.

The fire, the blood-chilling scream, the man, the blood.

Yang shot up from her cot, the room tilting as her vision swam with the head-rush, but she didn't care. She focused on Blake's stomach, searching for evidence and hoping to find none.

"Where… I saw. I saw him, I saw him and he had a - he, where did he -?"

Blake covered the red-stained rip in her shirt with an arm. "I'm fine. Just a few stitches and a bandage."

The tenseness almost melted away. "You're…?"

"I'm okay." The bitterness of the words confused Yang as Blake attempted to gently push her down. Why did she need to lie down? Why was she in a medic bay? She wasn't hurt…

Before Blake could stop her, Yang looked down at her right arm and the stump left behind. It throbbed, escalating the more Yang stared at it, but she couldn't look away, she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. Cold shivers surged from the back of her head and down her spine, the stump shaking in time with her rapid breaths. It was grotesque - a cleaned cut wrapped thickly in several layers of bandage, red still soaking through. Her gut twisted violently, she felt like she needed to puke, and she did, vomiting over the side of the cot.

Blake bit her tongue, tasting metal as she helplessly watched her rattled partner heave and try to control her coughs. She breathed in deep, ignoring the burn in her eyes. One of them needed to be strong, and it needed to be her.

She wiped away the tears and steeled herself. Preparing a lecture beforehand had proved fruitless; there was so much to say yet Blake found it impossible to utter one preemptive thought. She went with her gut, and rolled with the first thing out of her mouth,

"Why did you have to be so stupid?"

Yang couldn't answer between coughs, but she wasn't sure she could have even without the excuse.

"Why did you rush in there like you always do? Why? Don't you ever learn?" Yang recoiled as Blake stood and gestured wildly to the rest of the room, empty save for a volunteer nurse that scurried away from the rising fury in Blake's tone. "Do you even - Do you even understand? There was no reason! No reason at all to rush in like you did. What were you thinking? Why did you…? I can't, I- I don't - I-"

Blake slammed back into her seat, the chair sliding slightly on impact with a screech. Still as a stone, Yang did nothing as Blake covered her face to catch the leaking tears and stifle her sobs. Her hand itched in a desire to reach out and comfort, just like she used to, but she stayed her hand, waited for Blake to finish.

"I… I'm sorry. Yang, I'm sorry…"

For the first time in many years - since the day Summer died - Yang was at a loss.

Blake was not to blame for this. She could never blame Blake for this.

It was that man.

The red man, masked in death. He was to blame, not Blake.

But Yang's words would not cooperate, her mind a blank. Eventually, her big sister instincts kicked in. She grabbed Blake and brought her close, hugging her with the tightest grip her left arm allowed.

"It's not your fault."

How long they stayed this way, Yang couldn't tell. Every reassurance added another hiccup, another tear on Yang's jacket to the point where she gave in to the silence, gripping Blake's shoulder firmly to prevent her from leaving and facing the guilt alone like she knew Blake would. They were partners, and if there was one thing Yang actually learned in class, it was that they could get through anything together.

And they would get through this. Together.

After the tremors stopped and hiccups faded, Yang let go. When Blake pushed her back down, she went gladly. There was a weariness in her bones that the hard cot had no part in, as though she had fought another battle in her time at the medic bay. This time though, she could say she won.

"Hey Blake, think of it this way - I'll get a really cool robo-hand. Or even better," Yang formed an L with her thumb and index finger that she pointed toward the ceiling, mouthing a silent "bang" as she shot her weapon. "Gun hand. What do you think?"

She mirrored Blake's grin, however grim, confident in tomorrow.


End file.
